Puella Mercenary Madoka Mayhem
by ant0nym
Summary: What if, sometime after Walpurgisnacht, Madoka and her four Puella Magi companions formed a tight-knit team, not focused on hunting Witches... but raking in cold, hard cash working for the highest bidder. Obviously AU. Rated T: for questionable moral content, morbidly dark humor, and sadistic descriptive text.


_Puella Mercenary Madoka Mayhem_

Disclaimer: This is rated T not because of graphic stuff or swearing, although there is some blood and guts and stuff implied. Its because it was inspired by a rated M game, and as such deals with questionable content, namely the murder of "blue-shirts" which is a hopefully obvious euphemism for what are actually some of the most important members of our society-if you are lucky enough to live in a society governed by the rule of law. Don't really kill those people in real life, or anyone else for that matter, but especially them because once they're gone, who's going to stop the real crazy people from killing you?

If you are offended by violence, have had a tragic murder or something equally horrible impact your life, are related to a peace officer, or are simply a decent human being, you may have qualms about this story. Feel free not to read.

Everyone else, especially those who appreciate a little video game violence once in a while...

**Chapter 1: Payday.**

"Let's keep it short and sweet, we don't want this to turn into another bloodbath." The sweet, cheerful voice sounded crisp and clear over the earbuds plugged into each of the four young women's ears, despite the rattling in the back of the van as the vehicle sped down the unseen parkway. "Watch out for security guards and cameras."

"Secure that weapon!" Narrowed purple eyes glinting with frustration, the black-haired driver spared a brief, withering glance through the small opening in the partition to the rear.

A young woman with a long, red ponytail snorted, placing her armored boot on the skidding assault rifle. "Why the hell's everyone pickin' on me today?," Kyoko muttered, annoyed. "Uppity little bi-"

"Where there's cameras, there might be a security room," the pretty voice blurted, gently but firmly pressing the voice override button, since she knew from experience the fiery-tempered red head would be cursing up a storm, not quite under her breath and over an open channel, ensuring everyone heard her tirade.

If she wasn't the best at what she did... but she was. Oh god, thought Madoka. She was.

"Today is the start of the rest of our lives. This is the money we need to start up our operation; it's also the way we'll cement our reputation this side of the Pacific."

Kaname Madoka had thought long and hard about the perfect score; she needed something they could accomplish quickly, with minimal fuss, but pull off a large enough heist that she'd be able to set things straight with the yakuza, and have enough left over for them to start up this new enterprise they'd found themselves wrapped up in.

For the time being, they could not return to Japan. She wasn't proud of how things had turned out... bodies always made her cringe. But... a girl had to eat.

Times had been tough, since Walpurgisnacht.

"ETA ninety seconds." The brief, forceful update from Homura brought the pink-haired young woman back to reality. She watched the feeds of various traffic cameras in the suburb of Washington DC where her team was approaching their target.

American Heritage Bank. Bethesburg, suburb of Washington, D.C.

How they got her was a long story.

"The thermal drill was dropped off inside the bed of a red truck. It should be in the parking lot in back of the building." Madoka ticked off the major points, knowing that everyone already knew their parts by heart, but finding the ritual reassuring. "You grab the drill, enter the building, neutralize whatever security Homura-chan locates, and secure the rest of the people inside as hostages once they realize what's going on." She paused, hesitating, but felt it was worth bringing up again. "Remember, and I cannot stress this enough: we do not want a bunch of civilian casualties like last time. The law enforcement of this country will not deal with us, should anything go wrong, if we're knee deep in their dead."

"_If _anything goes wrong," interjected Kyoko, "which it won't."

Madoka muted the feed as she let out a sigh. "Sayaka-chan, you and Kyoko-chan will secure the hostages and provide overwatch of the rear, as Homura-chan sets up the drill."

Sayaka almost howled. "Me, with her? You've got to be kidding, Madoka!"

"I'll secure that rear, all right," the red head said obnoxiously at the same time.

"Cut the chatter, Red Five. We need to get in and get out as quickly as possible; I have arranged for a way out of town that will get by any scrutiny we might attract, but there's a very limited window of time."

"Here." The van stopped abruptly, the black haired young woman in front hopping out and moving to the back. As the rear doors opened, she hopped in, closing them behind her and immediately began putting on the layers of ballistic armor that the other women were already dressed in. A loose, white shirt and long, pleated skirt was worn over the thick kevlar plates each wore strapped to her chest and shoulders. The look was slightly absurd... but then again, this was a land of large, as in fat, people.

The pinkette watched a traffic camera feed as the back doors of the van opened, three somewhat short, but massive-looking figures hopping out. She could barely make out the individual's based on their weapons.

Sakura Kyoko was out first, waving her damn gun around as usual. "Stow your weapon!" Madoka hissed, "We don't want them to see someone waving an assault rifle around!" She watched, slightly mollified, as the figure tucked the weapon under her arm, proceeding down the block while keeping parked cars and overgrown bushes between her and the window, waddling slightly in the extra-heavy ballistic armor she had demanded.

Checking other nearby cameras again, Madoka was pleased to see there was still relatively little foot traffic. This might go off without a hitch. Unlike last time.

The next figure held a very distinctive bullpup rifle, the magazine hooking out from what was merely the stock of most guns. Miki Sayaka's weapon of choice, its amazing accuracy and fully automatic fire helped her provide cover and suppression for the squad when things got sticky, and the short barrel let it be used in close quarters, like inside buildings, for example. She moved to join her partner for the mission. Her earlier reluctance to team up with the red-head dissolved as soon as the adrenaline started pumping in earnest.

The next woman smiled at the camera, giving two blond drill-tails a brief tug before giving Madoka a thumbs up. Shaking her head, the pinkette watched Tomoe Mami head toward the bank, her saunter not at all diminished by the forty added pounds of military grade body armor she wore under the outfit she'd insisted they all wear... bearing a striking resemblance to some school's uniforms from another lifetime ago. Her cheery eyes and sparkling laugh at the thought had almost been infectious. Almost.

Madoka couldn't bring herself to find any humor in it. Things were... different. She was different. The whole universe seemed different.

Finally, the last figure hopped out of the van, closing the doors firmly before heading west toward the bank's parking lot. Madoka was the only one who knew about the surprise Homura-chan had wired up, or why they'd need a get-away driver when Homura had driven them there... altough Mami-san's knowing eyes had been questioning during the briefing, she'd refrained from any comment, another reminder of her trust in the pinkette's leadership.

Mami-san had almost entered the building by the time Homura-chan had picked the padlock to the chain link fence that secured the lot. Kyoko-chan and Sayaka-chan were inching their way along the northeast side of the building, avoiding windows, heading to the rear.

"I see someone," Kyoko-chan whispered. "Permission to neutralize."

Madoka bit back a sharp retort. "Security?"

"Umm."

"No," came Sayaka-chan's angry whisper. "Some dumbass smoking a cigarette. He's wearing a suit."

"Permission denied, then. Come _on_, Kyoko-chan!"

Madoka had to mute Kyoko-chan's comm feed due to excessive mutinous muttering. "Red Five, what's your target's LOS?" Homura asked.

"El, oh, ess? Huh?" Kyoko muttered, perplexed. Sayaka could be heard explaining, the red head wondering aloud "Why didn't you just say what direction are they looking?"

Homura didn't bother to mute her sigh. "Which direction is the target currently looking toward?"

"Hmm. Not sure, exactly. Where are you, exactly?"

Madoka started chewing her fingernails. When she realized what she was doing, she stopped, looking disgusted. It had been a... stressful month. Six months. And Kyoko... didn't always help matters.

"I'm on the western side of the building, northern corner, ready to grab the drill bag once I know the coast is clear..." Homura finished flatly.

"Ah, ok. What direction am I, then?"

Madoka watched Sayaka bury her face in her hand, while Homura-chan made a disgusted, vaguely German-sounding noise. "You _should_ be on the north side of the bank, opposite where we arrived."

"No, what direction am I _looking_ at, right now."

"Wha...? How should I... Are you looking at-"

"We are on the north side, east corner," reassured Sayaka.

"Then that means I'm facing..." the red head turned to the blunette at her side, who shook her head in defeat.

"He's looking east, mostly. There's a little corner of the building over here. He shouldn't be able to see you."

"Copy." Homura began creeping along the edge of the building, eyes darting around for movement. Crouching, she made her way to what was luckily the only red truck in the lot, fishing around and grabbing the heavy duffle bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she headed back the way she came.

"Picking lock now, get in position." Homura's voice had an edge that her crew members only got to hear at times like this, just before a mission began. It was intense, shaky with adrenaline.

"Looking good so far," noted Madoka, aware that she was holding her breath. So much depended on this succeeding... "Nothing on the police bands."

* * *

Mami waited patiently in line, purposefully having chosen the slowest. She did not enter the longest line, noticing that a shorter line had not one but two older women clutching their purses, sour expressions on their faces due to some complaint, some confusion, or just from the vicissitudes of age and diet upon the American physique. Smiling to herself, she continued to wait, listening in on the conversation of the other members of her crew. She always managed to have her face turned away from the pair of cameras that provided mediocre coverage of the teller's station, or whatever the hell you call the lobby of the bank.

She circumspectly snapped some pictures of the adjoining rooms; a hallway to the left upon entry, and on the opposite side to the east, a large cubicle-filled room with windows all along the side of the building.

Madoka clicked through the images. Those windows might be a problem...

"I'm in." Homura's voice was sharp, expectant. Madoka stopped her intensive study of the terrain.

"It's go time. Remember people, cash is king."

* * *

With frequent updates about positions of both the women themselves and the guards Homura and Mami were able to point out, the drill-tailed blonde slowly made her way to the front of the line, keeping the security guard on station in the room in her peripheral vision. When the wrinkled old woman in front of her finally turned around, in a huff after ten minutes of haggling about some incomprehensible "bank error" to the uncaring and borderline rude clerk, Mami smiled widely at the bank teller, reaching out a hand as if to steady the tottering woman, the other furiously pressing a button worn under her belt.

Click click click click click- "Gogogo!" shouted Madoka, the moment getting the better of her and, consequently, the listening women's ears.

* * *

Homura slunk down the hallway, features already hidden behind an armored teddy bear mask, alert for the patrolling guard. Sneaking through what appeared to be a copy room, she set the heavy dufflebag down, unzipping it and beginning to assemble the frame for the device within, listening with a kind of relish as the background hum of conversation from the adjoining office and lobby took on a distinct element of alarm, but the cartoon bear mask continued to express a relaxed and stress-free attitude.

* * *

Sayaka and Kyoko put on their own helmets and entered from the back into a small stairwell. Opening the door, Sayaka saw the bent over form of fully-armored Homura look up just as a man in a white shirt strode into the hallway, eyes widening in shock. Sayaka brought up her silenced sub-machinegun, putting her finger to the trigger.

* * *

Mami brought the armored mask over her head, the iconic white kitten face marred by two "frowny" eyebrows, giving it a distinctly sinister appearance. She grabbed a handful of the old woman's hair, reaching her other hand under her dress to draw a huge, gleaming cannon of a pistol, its extended barrel almost a full thirty centimeters. She brandished it in the ancient face, holding it under the woman's throat as she eyed the teller before her and, more importantly, the uniformed man to her side. She watched the white-shirted guard hesitate for a moment_-do it_, she mentally goaded him-and then he put one hand to his holster while the other made a grab for her...

* * *

Kyoko saw the man come around the corner through the doorway. As he reached for his gun, she brought up her customized Kalishnakov and opened fire without hesitation.

_BR-R-R-A-A-K! BR-R-R-A-A-K! BR-R-R-A-A-K!_

Mami almost, _almost _gave a start as the gunfire erupted from inside the building. _That Kyoko... does have a way of making me lose my composure, _she reflected. People were now screaming instead of muttering, and the reaching security guard glanced back wildly. Too easy. Mami clocked him with the four and a half pounds of stainless steel, dropping the man in his tracks. Eyeing the bank teller, who was staring in shocked amazement, from Mami to the sound of gunfire to Mami to the inert body of the only security officer in the room... his eyes widened as the strangely creepy kitty face stared at him.

Homura and Madoka winced in unison as they heard the signature sound of Kyoko's weapon discharge, while Sayaka jumped. She had been in the process of pulling the trigger when the EXTREMELY loud noise went off right next to her head. Rationally, she knew Kyoko had been trying to protect her and Homura, but... it still pissed her off. Even more so as her wild spray of bullets tore up the cubical wall, and the deafening silence that had descended in the instant after the red-head's burst of fire was broken, screams erupting from the other side of the office. _Damnit_, she thought._ I didn't want to be the first_...

"Red Five WHY ARE YOU FIRING AN UNSILENCED WEAPON!?" Homura's voice was even more on-edge than usual. Her hands fumbled for a moment at the complex setup, the thermal drill's positioning requiring extreme precision. She rolled her purple eyes at Kyoko's response.

"I... forgot this was the unsilenced one."

Sirens could be heard, off in the distance.

* * *

"Get on the ground! Everyone on the ground! This, _obviously_, is a robbery." Mami stepped over to the downed security guard, who was groggily reaching for his weapon again. Or his radio. Whatever. Extending her arm, Mami pointed the gun at the man's head, waiting for the teller's eyes to register what was about to happen. "Your cooperation is mandatory," she finished sweetly.

* * *

Letting the blonde work her magic, Madoka frowned at the recent turn of events, but didn't waste time on recriminations. "Bind up some of those people, use the zip ties, Homura, not piano wire." Inside her helmet, Homura frowned. "We need some hostages, how long do we have on the drill, Black Three?"

"It's just starting up," came Homura's answer, feeling prickly and hen-pecked. "Five minutes."

* * *

BLAM! Standing over the body of the security guard, Mami, or rather an angry-eyed white cat face stared the teller behind the counter in the eyes as she pulled the trigger, arm extended. The enormous spent shell casing went flying through the air, clinking on the tiled floor of the lobby, heard above the various whimpering and moaning sounds coming from the various employees and customers who'd found themselves unfortunate enough to be at the bank on this day, at this time, with a group of friends this dedicated... and desperate.

* * *

"Get the fuck down!" Kyoko shouted, kicking the woman's legs out from under her. She cinched up the zip ties extra tight, looking around for another target. Instead, she found herself looking at Sayaka, who had a man's arms behind his back.

"God, I _hate _pikachu _so much_." The comment could easily have been muted from the linked conversation, but Kyoko didn't bother, of course. The yellow face, with its rosy red cheeks and a vapid smile reminiscent of a certain white-furred space fox from their past... she just couldn't stand to look at the thing._ Digimon was so much better_, she thought to herself, one of the few things she was ashamed to admit to the world.

"Why don't you shut up?" The blunette asked, annoyed. "At least I don't have that stupid cat-face on my head. I know I always end up in blue, cuz of my hair, but this time I'm glad you got it." Sayaka shook her head in disapproval. "It looks so stupid. Whoever heard of an earless cat? And _what _is up with that expression? Mami's a sexy kitty... you're just a... a messed up looking catfish thing with an expression that makes me think you just layed a chocolate egg inside your pants."

Kyoko had foolishly grabbed the blue mask, seeking to piss off Sayaka... but she realized now that the mask was, indeed, the worst of the group. She felt a little self-conscious. This led to a feeling of frustration, which she proceeded to demonstrate by tackeling an office worker who emerged form the bathroom, aggressively pinning him down before tying him up.

"Enemies incoming! They're pulling up out front!" Madoka's voice rang over the comm network. "Homur-"

"Three minutes," Homura answered pre-emptively. She unlocked the safety on her rifle, turning the dial on the optic to "red."

* * *

The flashing car pulled up, two blue-clad men stepping out. One noticed Kyoko through the window, who had made no attempt to hide, and the both drew their weapons. They opened fire when the red-head brought her rifle around, their small caliber bullets shattering the window but missing Kyoko completely. Shaking her head, she called out "Two in front!" She aligned the glowing red chevron displayed in the sight she gazed down, the tip of an arrow pointing at what was about to be annihilated. The closer one was behind the open door of his car... perhaps it was bullet proof, but his feet and shins were open targets and she squeezed the trigger, her heavy armor, innate strength and superior weapon sending a tight grouping of three 5.56mm bullets into the man's lower legs. As he dropped to the pavement, she saw his head exposed and took the follow up shot with great satisfaction. _Another husband not going home to his wife tonight_, she chuckled gleefully.

The man still behind the car was pointing his gun at the murderer of his partner with a two handed grip, pulling the trigger as he lined up his shot... only to stare in amazement as his hands, from the wrist onward, disappeared in a red explosion, and began screaming as the pain finally made its presence known to his shocked system.

"Grrrr, I had him." Kyoko was the only member of the gang who would actually use the commlinks to growl. From her position, Sayaka rolled her eyes.

"You're welcome, dear. Some kind of armored vehicle pulling up a block to the southeast." The cheerful voice could have been announcing the arrival of a magical panda come to take them off to some kind of candyland, Kyoko reflected. The thought made her hungry.

"Thanks, Mami," Madoka said, clicking her keyboard and bringing up new displays and information. "Looks like there's an assault incoming... the main wave will be arriving there in the next couple of mintues."

"How long on the-" Sayaka was abruptly cut off.

"Seventy seconds! Quit rushing me!" Homura glanced back at the still-working drill... it had a tendency to overheat and jam, so she'd been keeping an eye on it. "Multiple enemies incoming from across the street to the southwest!" She stated, the second half of her sentence drowned out by burst after burst of fire she unleashed upon the black-armored men. Sirens were coming from all directions, but she focused on the onrushing targets, multiple rounds felling multiple men in almost the same location as they made their way through her kill zone.

* * *

Mami, meanwhile, was lining up a shot at the roof across the street, having noticed an extreme angle to some of the fire that had been peppering her as she'd hidden near the doorway, eyes scanning the road. The whimpering bodies around her were docile, giving her seconds of attention to devote to lining up her shot... KA-BOOM. The sniper's head poked over the edge for a moment, before vanishing in a pink mist. The M308 bucked in the corkscrew-haired robber's arms, but she spun it unerringly to another figure on the roof, popping off another bone-shaking shot. She ducked back inside, watching the body fall from its fifth story perch to land with a satisfying crunch.

Then she saw what appeared to be dark metallic rectangles hustling up the street. Squinting, she noticed the boots poking out from below the massive objects, which were in fact large shields, presumably bulletproof. KA-BOOM-BOOM! _Definitely bullet proof... oh poo._

"Shields out front!" Mami called, sing-song.

Madoka furiously accessed cameras, laying out the situation. "Okay, assault squad coming in... they're going to try to rescue the hostages."

"They will come in the front room, then," came Kyoko's confident voice across the network.

"Uhhh... what makes you say that, Kyoko-chan?" Madoka asked, puzzled.

"Well... there's not hostages left back here. Not alive, anyway..."

Madoka sighed, in her exasperation not muting her reaction this time. "They are never, ever, ever going to let you go now if they manage to capture you-"

"_If_. They_ won't_. Besides, it's not my fault if that moron decided to run in front of the lead hose." Sometimes, that confidence was infuriating. Sometimes, though, it could be channeled...

"Red Five, move in towards the front, help Gold Leader cover the front. Blue F-"

"Just call me Blue, we don't need numbers," Sayaka interrupted.

"B-but-"

"Then I want to be called 'Sable'."

"...S-sable? Ho-... I mean, Black T-"

"Then I get to be 'D3A7H(V)A$T3R!,'" interjected Kyoko, with almost excessive force.

"S-sab-D-deathm-master?"

"No, D3A7H(V)A$73R!" Kyoko had always been very proud of her level one-hundred-and-ten World of Woecraft vampire character. She was so badass!

"I can cover the rear," the blunette said, moving the conversation along, then cut off. Poking her head out the back door, she came face-to-face with a squad of five black-clad men, wearing armored chestplates and carrying automatic weapons, obviously caught in the act of sneaking in. The lead man even had the decency to look chagrined. Bringing her right arm up, she immediately opened fire, spraying bullets into faces and arms at short range. Bullets plinged against the brick wall in front of her, ripping huge divots in the stone and mortar. She rolled back inside the building. "More coming in from the back. I may need help..."

"No can do, Blue," Kyoko snarled, pumping round after round down the street into the massed group of armored men preparing to rush in. Lining up the glowing chevron of her scope with heads and necks and groins, she pulled the trigger over and over, forty single shots fired in the space of fifteen seconds. She couldn't tell how many she'd hit or winged, but they sure as hell had backed down for the moment. She loaded her last clip, unslinging a backpack and unclipping its fastings. "Ammo over here," she called, grabbing several extra clips before sliding it over behind the bank tellers' counter.

"Five seconds!" cried Homura before letting loose full auto into the stairwell, bullets slamming into the approaching unit armored in camoflauged full-body suits similiar to their own. The helmets protected their heads, but not their faces, she'd quickly figured out, and she did her part to ensure several more closed-casket funerals in the immediate future.

The drill beeped, stopped. Homura heard the hiss of air escaping a hermetically-sealed chamber. Smiling thinly, she pulled and the immensely heavy vault door slid open.

Inside: A table stacked, _stacked_, with piles of bills. They'd been in the process of accounting... everything was nicely laid out for them. "We're in, let's move," she called, rushing in to begin quickly and carefully lining up stack after stack of money into one of the the large, thick duffel bags she pulled out of her backpack.

"Your ride is en route, and will be there in one minute," Madoka called.

Kyoko opened fire out the shattered windowfront, covering Mami's retreat from the entryway. Mami snapped off a few shots just for show, heading toward the vault, and the red-head followed suit.

Sayaka met them next to the stairwell. "Lots out back," she panted, ejecting a clip from her rifle before slinging it to reload her P-90 submachinegun. "Last clip," she muttered, a questioning look in her eye.

"Ammo bag's out front, you're welcome to it..." A bang, and smoke began to fill the entryway. "On the other hand..."

The three headed to the vault, Homura awaiting them impatiently, six bags at her feet.

"I bag. You carry."

Kyoko hefted one of the bags, grunting appreciatively. "Catch!" she shouted as the bag slammed into Sayaka, who in turn slammed into the vault wall.

"Ooof!" Sayaka took a few moments to get up, glaring bloody murder at the red-head the entire time. Mami shook her head in exasperation.

"No time for bickering, girls, we need to leave, now." With that, she hefted one of the bags, barely, and shuffled out through the door, her exit punctuated by the crackling fire of automatic weapons and her own deep, echoing boom of her rifle.

"Screw that," Kyoko snarled, picking up bags and tossing them into the hallway. The other girls watched in amazement, even Homura's purple eyes watching appreciatively, until the red-head snarled again, "Go clear a path!"

* * *

Kyoko hurled the last duffle bag clear across the street, Mami wincing at the thought of the seams ripping, scattering... untold amounts of American tender floating out of their clutching little fingers. But the bag held; Homura had a good eye for quality, that was certain.

As Sayaka and Homura laid down covering fire, picking off the stray blue-shirted man who stood up to take a shot, Mami hopped in the front seat of the van, to see...

"GOGOGO!" Kyoko yelled, as Homura hopped in, slammed the doors, and banged on the side of the van. As the vehicle spun away, the three slipped and fell, their landings cushioned by six duffle bags full of money. It wasn't as soft as Kyoko had expected.

The sound of sirens picking up pursuit was cut off by a tremendous explosion as Homura pressed the button she'd rigged to the explosives in the van they'd arrived in.

The van pulled away, screeching, and into the night, each of the young women consumed by their victory and their own private thoughts and ruminations after a mission accomplished, if not with finesse, with _panache_.

Sayaka was thinking: God that Kyoko pisses me off. I really wanted that mask.

Homura was thinking: Now I get to see Madoka again. I'd like to stuff some of these bills-

Kyoko was thinking: I wonder how much Pocky I can buy with a million bucks. But then she thought: Why buy what you can steal for free? She vowed then and there, "This money would never change me!"

And Mami was thinking: What is _she _doing here? Her? Here?

Madoka was thinking: Whew. I'm glad that's over. That's enough of the small stuff... now we're on to the big time. Until she heard the body count on the news.

Nineteen dead, forty some wounded. Ouch.

* * *

**Just for fun, hope it wasn't too... callous for you. If you think it should be M or something, lemme know.  
**

**Let me know if you'd like more in a similar vein. Otherwise, one-shot with lots of loose strings dangling in the breeze.**

**Game that inspired this may be obvious, but how about this: what are the masks the members wear?**


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